Titanfall: The Next War
by The Strike Commander
Summary: Tai was a young man living a calm life on the frontier. Despite the blessing of peace, Tai's fantasies of grandeur could not be satisfied by the mundane. However, when a dying stranger arrived with ties to his father, Tai's life would be changed forever.


"This cramped launch pod might look like a standard escape vessel, but it turns out that this is one of the toughest pieces of equipment on board, even capable of withstanding a standard forty milimeter round. In the fourth part of my twelve segment documentary on interstellar ship design, we'll explore…"

The monotonous voice of the holographic architect was drowned by the rumbling inhalations of an adjacent classmate. Tai glanced at the comatose student face-down on the desk beside him, his pooling saliva dimly lit by the pale blue reflections of the display. Most days that Tai attended the public juvenile education center were drab at best, but today was especially so. Seven hours of suffering were more than enough mundane spaceship architecture for an entire lifetime. The minutes whittled by as Tai's heartbeat followed the synthetic ticking of the sluggish clock in his classroom.

An end to the school week couldn't arrive soon enough. Being confined to the dark interiors of the lifeless education center only made Tai long for the freedom of the open air more sharply. He wasn't meant to be chained to a desk; Tai wanted to fly. He fancied himself like the agile pilots of the Militia streaking from building to building, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and feeling the air blister around him as the uncaring masses past underneath.

The ride from the urban city centers to the suburban strips was a quiet echochamber for Tai's fantasies. Living a simplistic life on a peaceful frontier world did not provide much excitement for a young man, so Tai's mind was prone to wander. Opportunities for travel, for training, for combat were rare these days. His father would often ruminate wistfully on how lucky they were, how many soldiers had sacrificed everything for the frontier. Yet tranquil lives did not make for good stories.

Tai's father was not enthusiastic at the prospect of his son absconding away to live as a military grunt. Still, his father understood the compulsions of a young man and would not hold his son forever. Being a veteran himself, his father would frequently entreat Tai to the curiosity of his various tinkeringings, including the old training pod he kept covered in the basement. Tai would imagine slinking downstairs, clambering into his father's VR pod, and discovering what old war simulations were stored in the outdated database. However, Tai was never afforded the opportunity.

On arriving home that day, Tai went directly to his upstairs room to steep himself in isolation, only issuing a word to his mother and father in passing. He played at his notions of adventure and freedom until he was tired and the looming daystar had sunk below the horizon. Nevertheless, a boy in the heart of his youth must eat, so eventually Tai found his way back to the kitchen on the first floor.

His mother spotted him immediately. "Oh, Tai, there you are," she said warmly, "Are you hungry? You had been up there so long I was beginning to wonder if you had fallen asleep."

"Yeah…" Tai mumbled, but he was interrupted as his father approached and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, kiddo. Have something I want to tell you," his dad said. Tai looked his father in the face with a dull expression. His father smirked. "I got a call. Some old friends of mine are going to be in town in a couple days. So whaddya say? You want to meet some pilots?"

Tai's face melted as his mouth went agape. "Holy shit, are you…"

"Watch your language!" his mother snapped.

"Ah, sorry…" Tai shook his head, perturbed by his mother's sudden involvement.

His father only chuckled. "Yes, I'm serious. Unit's gonna be on world for about a week, so you've got a chance to see some real hardware."

"Ha, dad," Tai said, "That's the-"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A sudden noise from the entryway caught everyone's attention. Tai's father flicked his head toward the door as Tai's mother looked up in confusion.

"What was that?" Tai's mother asked.

Tai's father gave his son a pat on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "Someone getting a rocky start to their weekend, no doubt. I'll see who it is."

Tai turned and followed his father to the front door. Through the thin layer of residential insulation, frightening coughs could be heard. Whoever was outside sputtered painfully, wheezing like an injured dog. Tai stood afar from the entrance as his father cautiously reached for the knob. His father glanced outside slowly, but once he had ascertained the allegiance of the person, the door was opened hastily.

Tai watched as a bloodied man caught himself on the entrance mat and lumbered forward on his knees. While the man coughed repeatedly and spat up fluids onto the carpet, Tai observed the man's comprehensive helmet and layered combat vestments. Tai's mother, however, was not so amused. Standing at the end of the hall, she cried out and moved rapidly to her son.

She placed her hands on him, saying, "Tai, go upstairs to your room!" His mother shoved him back an inch and positioned herself between her son and the collapsing man. Though Tai was not ignorant of his mother's command, he could not compel himself to obey. Instead, he moved up a few steps but peaked down to witness the mesmerizing incident.

As Tai's father stooped down to examine the soldier, the man rolled over and heaved a great sigh. His body nearly went limp while blood trickled from his lips. The man coughed again, looking lazily to Tai's father.

"It's you…" said the soldier, "Goddammit, of course it's you." The man coughed forcefully into his hand.

"Whoa, whoa… easy soldier," Tai's father said, lifting the man up slightly.

The soldier stared up at Tai's father with reddened eyes. "I told her to get me as close to a Militia contact as she could…" The soldier coughed again as his body jolted. "Didn't realize she picked you…"

Tai's father's face turned grave as the soldier sputtered and gagged himself back to a lying position. The soldier grunted heartily, thrusting his hand up weakly for Tai's father to catch. Blood and dirt smeared across the father's open palm as the soldier deposited something into his hand.

"This has to get to the fleet," stated the soldier, "Without this all is lost. It's…" he coughed, "It's them - the…" Again, the soldier sputtered violently.

Tai's father clenched the item in his hand as he turned to his wife. "Honey, get some rags." Her face aghast, Tai's mother nodded solemnly.

Tai's father then glanced sternly toward his son. "Get to your room."

That night Tai dreamt of a blood red sky filled with battle-worn titans. Floating between clouds as a mountainous giant, he would pluck them from the air and splinter them against jagged stones below. Though his fantastical conflicts were constant, Tai continued to pass through dreamscapes rapidly, struggling to maintain a continuous slumber with the concerns of that evening weighing on his mind. The consequences of what had transpired were unclear to Tai, and for once he was scared to lose the few trifles of attachment he possessed in this brief life. Regardless, when he awoke and the morning light came streaming, Tai's head was clear.

Tai sat up in bed and rubbed his dry eyes. He relinquished himself to the new day and set about clothing himself. Yet, as he finally drew up his trousers, a strange sensation overcame him.

Tai's whole body seemed to vibrate abruptly. The squawking of various avians drew his attention to his window. Then another tremor came, and Tai had to steady himself. A black bulwark thundered across his window. Sunlight refracted of the massive object's glinting surface and revealed a triangular pane of semi-reflective, black glass. An equally angular tri-pointed, orange light emanated from the center of the screen while the mechanical monstrosity stared vacantly back at Tai.

Shocked and terrified, Tai burst from his room and rushed downstairs. The walls rattled continuously as Tai descended, and adrenaline coursed through his head. At the stairs' end, he thought to shout, but a cold hand swiftly clamped over his mouth.

Tai felt his father's rough beard brush against the back of his neck. "Quiet," his father whispered, "Into the basement… you'll be safe there."

Without a word, Tai's father gradually opened the basement door and shunted his son into the darkness. Tai stumbled on the unfinished wooden steps but caught himself as the door shut behind him. The musky scent of the concrete sublevel didn't offer a welcoming sensation. Tai turned back, caught by the light of the door crack. He pressed himself down against the staircase and listened carefully between the beats of his heart.

A fist banged on the front door with ample force. "Open up! We know you're in there!" a commanding voice shouted.

Brief mechanical whirring ensued before another voice could be heard. "What are you doing, you imbecile? Don't ask to be let in!"

In a flurry of noise, Tai saw shadows moving in front of the basement door, and then a loud crack shook the building. Several gunshots followed, piercing Tai's ears, but a secondary blast sent a blinding light through the crevice. Tai reeled back and quickly slipped, sliding down the last few steps on his rear.

The hard touch of cold stone did not alleviate the ringing in Tai's head nor did it slow the rhythm of his pulse. As he rose to cradle his throbbing skull, a gruff voice could be faintly heard at the top of the stairs.

"Data stick confirmed. We've recovered the package." There was a beat followed by, "Understood. Clearing the house."

More heavy footsteps encouraged Tai to slink away from the stairs. Injured and overwhelmed he crawled into the dim recesses of the basement and scraped his hands on the concrete. Tai hefted himself to his feet and stood before his father's old VR pod. Dusty, faded drapes covered a web of cabling and wires linked to the pod and the dated mechanics of the VR system. A thought crossed Tai's mind: the pod might have been why his father had indicated the basement as safe. The aged Militia system would have been built to be secure and to withstand significant damage.

Half delirious, Tai let the weight of his body guide him into the pod seat and he nearly went unconscious on touching the flexible cushioning. Fumbling with the seat's arm supports, he slumped into position and let his head rest momentarily. A loud, screeching noise rattled the basement ceiling, and so prodded Tai from his daze. Tai looked around himself and shortly found the activation switch. As Tai pressed his thumb to the tiny metal component, he contemplated all the times he had begged to play in the VR pod, all the times his father had refused. Tai remembered how he would tell his father that he wanted to protect the frontier when he was older and how his father would smile melancholily. Now he wasn't even sure his father was alive.

Tai flicked the switch forward, hoping that his father's last command would be his salvation. The disparate plates surrounding the pod jostled to life and swung closed like the petals of a flower. The angular seams snapped together and the pod let out a satisfying pneumatic hiss. Tai's eyes had to adjust as the inside of the pod gave off an innate illumination.

A deep voice suddenly emanated from within the chamber. "Unknown occupant detected. Requesting voice confirmation."

Tai groaned in discomfort while various status indicators blinked in several colors. "Um… what?" he stammered.

"Requesting voice confirmation," the voice repeated, "Who are you?"

Tai rubbed his face in a nervous sweat. "Uh, I'm Tai."

"Understood. Voice confirmation accepted." The voice paused. "Engaging standard operating procedure. Protocol 1… Tai, where is your father?"

"Uh, I...," Tai replied, feeling his cheeks flare, "I don't know."

An echoing bang could be heard outside the pod and a voice shouted, "Hey! Someone get this door open!"

The pod voice continued. "Understood. Beginning scan for nearby lifeforms." Tai felt a tear forming as another silence ensued. "Scan complete. Tai, I am detecting multiple living entities in this building. However, it is unlikely that any of these are your father."

Tai sighed. "Is that a good thing?"

"Undetermined."

Tai flinched as the sound of a gunshot filled the basement.

"Protocol 2… Retrieving mission parameters," the voice continued, "Status: decommissioned. No further standing orders."

Then the screen in front of Tai revealed a hazy projection like someone had thrown a burlap sack over his head. He heard someone shout, "Careful! Someone's in that thing!" Suddenly the haze lifted, and Tai realized he was looking through a window into the basement. Before him stood a squad of rifle-bearing soldiers cautiously approaching him. Tai sunk in his seat.

"Operational restrictions lifted. Evaluating addendum to Protocol 3. Tai, please secure yourself. I am about to engage the enemy."

Tai was already clawing at the seat's upholstery. He cringed at the approaching soldiers, but the pod voice's statements did not register with him. "W-what?"

Tai's stomach lurched as the pod seemed to tilt forward. A long metal arm cut through the shadows of the basement and glinted in the dim light. One of the soldiers shouted while the arm appeared to extend from the pod itself, parting the squad. With mechanical servos groaning fiercely, the arm slammed against the basement wall and incapacitated several men. A command was issued, and the viewing pane sparked in a hail of gunfire. Unswayed, the pod rocked side-to-side and rose from the floor until Tai heard the sound of creaking wood.

Suddenly, the well-armed soldiers fled in panic. The straining wood yielded to loud cracks as splinters broke from the ceiling. Dust and debris rapidly filled Tai's vision while the structure collapsed around him. The pod thrust forward, and the wood fractured in its path. Tai rose higher through a tumult of destruction, and then the dust broke swiftly to the intense, yellow daylight.

Tai strenuously readjusted to the morning sun shining on the tranquil, suburban streets. The pod rotated around smoothly to where the road was covered by more gawking soldiers and an APC. Before any of the men could act, the pod strut out one bulky, metallic leg and launched the armored vehicle into the idle soldiers. The car flipped upside down and skidded across the pavement as blood and munitions spilled onto the roadway.

Tai was beginning to understand that he was not in a VR pod. He was turned again in time to see the collapsing ruble of his garage. The majority of his house was still intact, but a mound of wood and debris remained where the basement had once been. The voice from the pod addressed him again.

"Tai, we must obtain my pilot's helmet before we can establish a neural link. I am detecting it on the premises." The pod leaned forward. "Initiating scan…" A wave of light pulsed over the viewing pane and several faint orange outlines appeared inside Tai's house. "Multiple hostiles detected. Tai, we will need to eliminate them before you can safely proceed."

Dumbfounded, Tai played along thoughtlessly. "Okay, how are we going to do that?"

The voice paused briefly before facing the human outline in Tai's room on the second floor. "I have a plan," the voice responded and approached the house, "Tai, I offer my apologies preemptively."

Tai blinked. "Huh? Wait."

One giant arm gripped the edge of the roof on Tai's room and pulled. The slanted shingles along with the entire front wall of siding ripped off the house and exposed the indoor space and the soldier within like the innards of a cracked egg.

Shocked, Tai cried out, "Hey!"

The destruction continued, however, as the arm reached in and plucked the grunt from inside. The soldier let out one final shriek before he was crushed by the mechanical hand, compressed between the metal joints, and his limp body slid to the ground.

Tai shivered at the grotesque act. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," Tai moaned.

"Please to not be sick," the voice briskly responded, "My mass sensor has not yet been calibrated. I cannot administer the proper dosage of nausea medication without the necessary biometric data."

A scream and a flurry of gunshots interrupted the odd conversation. The pod swiveled down to a soldier who had just rounded the corner of the house. While brandishing his simple rifle, he fired haphazardly into the air, but the assault had little effect. The soldier swiftly met with the enormous foot of the pod and was trampled with dirt and grass.

As the pod straightened, the voice said, "Two more approaching the front entrance… Exiting now."

As predicted, a pair of soldiers ran out the front door. One shouted, "There it is! Move! Move!"

Regardless, an iron arm descended on the pair and fractured the concrete doorstep with a thunderous crack. One mighty slam of its massive fist was enough to render the soldiers unconscious. The pod was brought a pace back while the dust settled. Without the debris and carnage in sight, one could have mistaken the day for mundane.

"Area clear," the synthetic voice stated, "Tai, you may now disembark."

The pod lowered and the interlocked plates parted quickly. A metal hand extended to act as Tai's stepping stool as he descended from his safe place. Tai reached out from the pod and, finding his footing, walked gradually into the light. The split walkway now barely reached the doorstep, and the old door hung ajar like a dying leaf. As he glanced inside, Tai saw the light differed sporadically where the ceiling had been punctured. Dust clouded the way, but Tai was still familiar with his own home.

Bodies lined the entrance hall, and one even poked out from the collapsed basement stairwell. Tai carefully walked over the spread of guns and dirt, confused but motivated by a perpetual cycle of adrenaline. Abruptly, Tai halted. At the hall's end was one body he could recognise. Tai fell to his knees in front of his father's lifeless frame.

Releasing a ragged breath, Tai grasped clumsily at his father's tattered clothing. The red spots where the shots had pierced him stood out plainly on his light colored shirt. A small handgun lied silently in his limp hand, and a clip's worth of casings were scattered around him. Never again would Tai have the opportunity to spar words with his father. He was an independent man now, but his survival came at a lofty price.

One feature nevertheless stood out to Tai. Resting on his father's chest was a small, black data stick. Someone had discarded it here, but Tai instinctively knew this was something of importance. That stranger, who had arrived the night prior, had handed his father something, and now Tai thought that was likely the cause of this sudden attack. This data stick was at the root of this somehow, information that everyone was after. Whether he understood the makings of this mystery or not, Tai was compelled to see the journey to its completion. His motivation was not one of revenge but desperation for meaning in his newfound isolation.

Holding motionless for a moment, Tai heard words echo behind him. "The helmet is in the adjacent closet."

Tai grabbed the data stick and turned around. The hallway closet was still tightly shut despite the scattered debris. Tai slowly opened the door to peer inside. Several dull coats hung mournfully in the dark closet interior, yet no helmets were concealed above or behind them. Instead, Tai looked to the floor where a faint blue glimmer caught his eye. Tai crouched down and retrieved an open box from the closet.

Inside the box was a robust helmet of pale grey, orange, and green. Its diagonal cross visor was composed of hexagonal web and emitted a bright blue hue. Tai withdrew the helm, immediately recognising the distinctive pilot design. Gazing upon the impassive visage, a melancholic feeling stirred in Tai's gut. His father had talked little of his time as a pilot, and Tai would no longer have his help in finding the answers.

Tai turned the helmet over, accepting rather than anticipating the moment he had desired. Tai lifted the pilot's helmet and let it slide over his juvenile features. Instantaneously, the helmet began to work, connecting pilot to titan, without consideration for Tai's reluctant feelings. Log records and console readouts flared across the visor, but Tai only perceived the steady incline of his burden. Tai stood and prepared to leave his memories of the past behind him. With the data stick firmly grasped in one hand and his father's helm weighing heavily on his shoulders, he turned toward the vivid light streaming from the doorway.

As Tai passed through the door to his broken house, he came face to face with the weapon that had cradled him through the shadow of death: a monolithic machine, imposing in its own right. Two massive steel legs supported the box-like chassis conjoined with two powerful, geometric arms, and at the center of the machine was a semi-cylindrical head shining a bright blue light from its singular eye.

Tai let out his breath, feeling the heat reverberate off the inside of his helmet. "It's you… Vanguard-class titan. The one my father piloted when he was in the Militia."

The titan's glowing ocular shifted as it focused on the young man. "I am BT-7274. You may call me BT."

"Alright," Tai replied, "Pretty easy to remember."

"Tai Cooper," BT addressed, "In accordance with Protocol 3: addendum, I have the authority to grant you the rank of acting pilot. It is my assessment that this is the best course of action to protect your life and fulfill Protocol 3: addendum."

Tai stepped back hesitantly. "What's this… a-addendum?"

BT lowered on one knee. "Protocol 3: addendum - Protect the pilot's son. Issuer: pilot J. Cooper." The titan leaned forward. "Tai, as I no longer submit to the Militia chain of authority, I can accept a new pilot freely; however, I still require your verbal consent before we can establish a neural link. Will you accept the rank of acting pilot?"

Tai let out a nervous chuckle as the titan examined him expectantly. "Do I really have a choice?" he asked.

"Affirmative," BT replied, "However, given the presence of hostile IMC forces, it is unlikely we will survive without a link. A pilot and titan cannot operate in tandem without one."

"Got it. So then…" Tai nodded somberly, "I accept the rank."

"Acknowledged, you may embark when ready." The metal plates around BT's chest parted once again and exposed the pilot's seat within. As Tai tentatively mantled the open core, he glanced up at the titan's watchful eye. Despite the cold, unfeeling light splitting the titan's cranium, Tai felt an unexpected kinship with the massive mechanical. His father had orchestrated their union from an inferred perspective, so the titan was like an extension of Tai's family. Tai sat in the pilot's seat, and the chamber closed behind him.

With Tai safely inside BT, the titan spoke, and words flickered onto Tai's visor. "Protocol 1 - Link to pilot. Establishing neural link." Tai felt his head buzz with bewildering energy, crescendoing in sharp relief.

"Neural link established," BT continued, "Protocol 2 - Uphold the mission. Tai, as I no longer receive directives from Militia command, our mission is to survive. Protocol 3 - Protect the pilot. Addendum - Protect the pilot's son. Given the likelihood of an ongoing IMC incursion, we must reduce further engagements."

"I have this data stick," Tai interjected. He glanced at the small, black memory drive. "I think… a stranger, a soldier arrived last night and left this with us."

"Understood. The information contained on the device may be important," BT replied, "Connect the data stick to your helmet, so I can begin analysis."

Tai allowed himself to follow the commands impassively. He found the slot at the side of the pilot's helm and snapped the memory stick into the opening.

"Decrypting Militia encoded data," BT stated, "Tai, this memory unit details warp points for an IMC invasion force. It must be delivered into Militia hands before they begin the attack."

"So, this is what they came for," Tai mused, "If we get this data to the Militia they might be able to do something to stop the IMC."

"Affirmative," BT responded, "The Militia has a minor presence on this planet, but it may be possible to make contact."

Tai straightened in his seat. "Great. And if any more of the IMC come searching for this, you'll take care of them right."

BT paused momentarily. "It may be pertinent that I currently lack the necessary munitions for titan-on-titan combat."

Tai blinked. "What?"

"I have no ammo."


End file.
